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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868961">The River</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Premature Ejaculation, Spit As Lube</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:01:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Acheron,” Metodey said, his voice singsong. He was smiling, of course; he was always smiling. “Have you ever had sex with a man?”</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Acheron/Metodey (Fire Emblem)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The River</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This takes place in some kind of AU where Metodey and Acheron survive but are living as fugitives on the run. It doesn't really make sense with canon, but please just roll with it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>These days, it felt like Acheron’s sole joy was the river. He bathed daily, and dipped his feet into it during the hottest part of the afternoons. The river gave them fish to eat and water to drink. At its deepest point, it was only up to Acheron’s chest; he was never afraid to bathe or swim in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But unlike him, Metodey did not trust the river. He never went in past his knees; even when Acheron made him bathe he just knelt down and splashed himself instead of going in all the way. When Acheron waded out into the middle of the river, he would close his eyes and pretend he was standing in his own private bath back home. He could get his time and really get into the daydream, safe and secure in the knowledge Metodey was not looming over his shoulder or creeping up behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This particular day, however, he was sitting on the bank. Staring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron dipped his head beneath the water one last time, then sighed and headed for the shore. They might have saved each other’s lives, but that did not make Acheron like Metodey. For all intents and purposes, Metodey was the last man in the world - the last man he could talk to without having to worry about being turned in and imprisoned, or executed. The time they spent together was due to necessity only.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron did not know how long this odd facsimile of a life would last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey was still seated on the edge of the river, watching him intently. Acheron had bathed with his clothes on the first few times, but the fuss of having to dry everything out afterwards had quickly taken the last of his modesty away. Now he was almost used to being naked in front of Metodey - but he was not used to this staring: catlike, almost predatory. “What is it?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Acheron,” Metodey said, his voice singsong. He was smiling, of course; he was always smiling. “Have you ever had sex with a man?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron stopped in his tracks. “What gives you the nerve to ask that kind of a question?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Curiosity!” Metodey scuffed a foot on the ground, scattering pebbles. “If you want to know, I’ve never had sex with anyone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron gazed down at him through narrow eyes. He was not unwise to the ways of the world, and Metodey was eminently easy to read. It was clear as day what the purpose of this conversation </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron had been expecting this day to come, sooner or later. Metodey was a man, after all - a strange one, but a man nonetheless. And Acheron couldn’t lie: the thought had crossed his mind a few times. It had been a long time since another person had touched him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Acheron said at last. “To answer your question, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> had sex with men.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey’s smile grew. “What’s it like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s too broad of a question. It’s different depending on one’s partner, and the act or acts in question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Acts…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron sighed. “Look, just spit it out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to have sex with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron flashed back to his life of just a few months ago. Back then, this kind of obscene directness would have shocked him. Now he appreciated it. “Meet me back in the cave,” Acheron said. “Spread all the bedding out flat. Make it as soft as you can. I’m going to stay out here for a few more minutes, then I’ll join you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey got up so fast that pebbles flew everywhere, and dashed off without another word. Acheron sighed. There was a large rock he sunbathed on sometimes; he found it and lay on his back, staring up into the sky, letting the sun and wind dry the water from his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was about to willingly have sex in a cave. With </span>
  <em>
    <span>Metodey.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If this was not the lowest moment of his life, he was afraid how far he had left to fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Acheron got to the cave they now considered their home, Metodey was crouched on the ground, leaning back on his haunches. The blankets were spread out like Acheron had requested, which, he supposed, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron sat down. “Now, how will this work?” he said. “I suppose it’s best if I, ah, use my hand on you, and if you want you can return the favor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey stared at him with those shiny, inquisitive eyes. “I want to fuck you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron blinked, surprised. “I am not wholly opposed to the idea,” he said slowly. He knew he liked being fucked. He missed it; even before they’d fled it had been months and months since he’d had sex. The damned war had ruined everything. “The problem is that we are outside. In a cave. Without supplies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey gestured wordlessly to the blankets spread out on the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not that,” Acheron said. “Some liquid, to, ah, lubricate. Typically I use oil, but. Well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Metodey said. “Water?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron winced. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron winced again, but for a different reason. “I - I suppose… it might work. Agh!” He buried his face in his hands. Was he seriously considering this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lots and lots of spit,” Metodey said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Disgusting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Let’s do the hand thing, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron raised his eyes and looked at Metodey. He was like a little bird, or perhaps a rodent - still crouching, his body balanced somewhat implausibly on his toes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron didn’t like him. He was ready to erase this entire section of his life; it felt like a bad dream. Every day, Acheron woke up and missed his bed, his servants, his friends; he missed tea and shampoo and soap and properly cooked food. Clean clothes. Spices. Combs. Being a fugitive did not suit him whatsoever; some days, he wondered if it really was a better life than imprisonment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron didn’t like Metodey, but, as the days went on, he’d begun to trust him. There were some things he’d never get used to - Acheron still gagged to see him eat fresh-caught animals raw and lick the blood from his fingers - but lately, as the nights had gotten colder, they’d begun sharing the blankets, rather than shivering alone. And Acheron had not woken up with a bite taken out of his flesh, or missing a finger, or with a knife pressed against his throat. The worst that happened was Metodey clinging to him in the mornings, making him sweaty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lots of spit,” Acheron said, the words causing him physical pain to pronounce. But he did want this. Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddess,</span>
  </em>
  <span> how far he’d fallen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey grinned and sat down at last, right next to Acheron. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First I need to…” Acheron paused. He realized Metodey was going to be watching him with that intense, predatory gaze, just as he had when Acheron was in the river. He did not like the idea.  “Can you look away? I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey frowned. “But I want to watch! What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to talk about this. He wanted to do it. He wanted it </span>
  <em>
    <span>done.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I’m stretching myself out,” he said, his cheeks burning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With spit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can help.” Metodey scooted closer, his eyes bright. “Let me help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron liked to take the passive role - the more passive he was, the better, in all honesty. Normally he’d gladly rescind control of this part over to his partner. But when the partner in question was Metodey, it made him rightfully pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey was still wearing his tattered clothing, but Acheron could see he was hard. This was genuine curiosity, then, and arousal. Acheron was soft, but seeing that made his cock twitch. “Fine,” he said, and got onto his hands and knees. “Go slowly. And use lots of spit!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lots of spit,” Metodey echoed. Acheron shut his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He expected a finger, but what he felt was - softer, wetter. Hotter. Metodey’s mouth was on him - Metodey was </span>
  <em>
    <span>licking him.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey paused, then pulled away. “What you asked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought - agh… Normally you put the, the lubricant on your hand, and use a finger.” This was what Acheron got for not explaining </span>
  <em>
    <span>every little detail</span>
  </em>
  <span> to Metodey. He completely deserved this. “You are putting your </span>
  <em>
    <span>mouth </span>
  </em>
  <span>on… Look, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>vile.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were just in the river,” Metodey said. “It’s not vile. Tastes like river water.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But the </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it… you aren’t - disgusted?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron shivered. Certainly he couldn’t imagine being in Metodey’s shoes. But… “I suppose if you do not find the idea of it disgusting, it matters not what you do,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey took that for the invitation it was, and continued without another word. Acheron shut his eyes and tried to feel without thinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first it felt like Metodey was exploring him: the pressure of his tongue was light, almost ticklish. It didn’t feel bad, but it wasn’t exactly pleasurable, either. It was just strange. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when at last Metodey’s tongue found his entrance, and pushed - and slipped inside - it felt different. Acheron groaned, forcing himself to relax and allow the penetration. Metodey’s tongue felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>long, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and, somehow, it was like he was sliding the whole thing in there. Against his will Acheron’s brain conjured up an image of Metodey with a tongue far longer than a human could have, prehensile and snakelike, going on and on and on…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey was half fucking him with his tongue now. His fingers gripped Acheron’s ass for leverage, nails digging in painfully. And then, strangely, Metodey </span>
  <em>
    <span>groaned</span>
  </em>
  <span> - a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down Acheron’s spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron was hard now, very hard. This was strange, but it felt… good. Slimy and disgusting and pleasurable. He felt a trickle run down the inside of his thigh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lots of spit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Metodey said, when finally he pulled his face away. “Doesn’t taste vile.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Put a finger in me now,” Acheron said, breathing heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It slipped in easily. “Another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn’t much of a stretch, either. Acheron took a deep breath. “Alright, now… I think I’m ready. If you want to - to do this still.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey moved to the side, and looked Acheron in the eye.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Stupid,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said. “Of course I do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then hurry up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey’s clothes were gone in an instant. He got down on his knees, spat on his hand and rubbed it along his shaft, then positioned himself behind Acheron. “Going to do it now,” he said. For the first time, Acheron heard what he recognized as nervousness in Metodey’s voice. It was surprising - he hadn’t known that was an emotion Metodey could even feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron moaned as Metodey entered him. It stung, but it was pleasure and pain mixed together - not a bad feeling. And Metodey thankfully went slowly, so slowly; Acheron closed his eyes and allowed himself to savor it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When finally he was bottomed out, Metodey let out a huff of air, like he’d been holding his breath. “Feels good,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron grunted. It didn’t feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but it had hardly begun. He wasn’t about to start lavishing Metodey in praise, not yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seconds passed. Metodey stayed still, the sound of his panting filling up the shallow cave. Acheron had to break the silence: “Move already!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey drew himself back and thrust in, again and again, setting a fast pace. His rhythm was erratic and hard. Then he let out a sound Acheron had never heard before, a long, drawn-out animalistic moan, and stopped, buried inside Acheron.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you waiting for?” Acheron said. “If you’re getting tired already, go more slowly. It isn’t that difficult.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not tired,” Metodey said, audibly out of breath. “Can’t keep going. Felt too good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hit Acheron like a brick. “Did you already come?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Metodey,” Acheron said, trying to look at him over his shoulder, “that was - that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>half a minute,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that’s being generous. Is - is this a joke?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me stay inside you,” Metodey said, his voice a whine. “Then we can go again. It won’t take long.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Goddess!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Acheron could have screamed. All that buildup - the indignity of it, the effort of it - and Metodey had lasted </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> ten thrusts… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You feel so good,” Metodey said. He sounded woozy, like he was drunk. “I could do this forever…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently not!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me go again,” Metodey said. “I’ll do better next time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Presumptuous to assume there will be a next time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron could feel Metodey’s cock softening inside of him. He huffed a laugh. This all somehow seemed right. Fitting. What was the point of having sex in a cave, if it wasn’t completely </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful in every way?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Acheron didn’t move. He just stayed like that, on his hands and knees, waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey stroked his hip, ran his nails lightly down the curve of his ass. It felt… nice. Comforting. Neither of them said anything. Acheron heard the sound of Metodey’s breaths, paced his own breathing to match. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And after a couple of minutes, Metodey did get hard again - Acheron felt it happening inside him. It was a strange feeling, but not bad - and when Metodey drew himself out and thrust inside again, the slide was smooth and hot. It felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See,” Metodey said, breathless and smug.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “See.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you don’t last longer this time, I will wring your neck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Metodey said, and started to move in earnest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their cave was miles from the nearest farmhouse, which in turn was miles from the nearest city. They’d encountered no humans anywhere nearby. And Acheron no longer carried the mantle of his rank; he’d cast it off weeks ago. He was nobody. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could let go. And he did. The cave echoed with the sound of his voice, and Metodey’s, and the obscene slapping of flesh on flesh. And even though Acheron winced to hear it, he had to admit that it was pleasurable - it was good. Metodey’s spit on him - Metodey’s cum </span>
  <em>
    <span>in </span>
  </em>
  <span>him - it made the slide deliciously slick. He ended up with his head on the ground in pleasure, ass in the air, eyes screwed shut and mouth open. A horrible sight, probably, but he couldn’t care less.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Metodey did last longer, thank the goddess. When at last he whimpered out, “Acheron, I’m gonna come again, I’m sorry,” Acheron reached a hand up and jerked himself off. It was the most powerful orgasm he’d had in ages, perhaps ever - and it had been very, very hard earned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He collapsed onto the blankets and just lay there, his chest heaving, feeling the come leaking out of him and the sweat drying on his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Metodey said, slithering up beside him. He wrapped his arms around Acheron. “I could die, it feels so good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s too hot,” Acheron said. “Get off me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey whined and pouted as Acheron got to his feet. “Where are you going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The river,” Acheron said. “I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> filthy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good idea,” Metodey said, springing to his feet as if this hadn’t taken any energy out of him. “Wash up, and we can do it again!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acheron stared at him. Metodey stared back. It did not seem like he was joking</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are an </span>
  <em>
    <span>animal,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Acheron said. Metodey just threw his head back and laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Together they went to the river. For the first time, Metodey followed him in, not stopping at the shore like he normally did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metodey </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>like an animal, Acheron thought. A strange little creature, almost entirely feral. But Acheron had to admit he would have never made it this long without him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
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